One of the traits I struggle most against is the urge to move on when the vibe isn’t quite right for me. The first couple of days I was already busy planning how to move on from Phnom Penh. Phnom Penh is the capital, and as is the case with capitals in Southeast Asia, you get bombastic wealth side by side with deep poverty. The poverty feels more raw and closer to the street scene than it did in Vietnam.

Just like in Vietnam, I walk around the streets of Phnom Penh.

In Vietnam it was hard to be a pedestrian due to narrow streets, with almost no room for pedestrians and hectic traffic right next to you. A bit like walking along a busy Danish country road with only a narrow shoulder. Phnom Penh is the same, but toned down. There’s more room for pedestrians, and the traffic is less intense. And less noisy.

Phnom Penh gives me more of a feeling of the tropics than Vietnam has. From the building aesthetics to the plants and vegetation. Big green leaves, palm trees and fruit trees are part of the cityscape. It’s integrated in a way that feels natural. As if the city was built in a jungle, and the jungle is still there in the background.

Phnom Penh’s public buildings have a recognizable look. Yellow colors, cone-shaped tops with small rings, carvings depicting Hindu gods, and naga statues (many-headed snakes) at entrances. Especially the naga statues heighten the tropical feeling when they’re surrounded by green shrubbery.

My hostel is close to the river, the royal palace and a number of temples. It’s the richer part of the city. There are long streets full of clubs and bars, where there’s partying every night. Many restaurants with good Asian menus can be found on every street. There are 20+ Japanese restaurants within a 500 meter radius. I’ve spent more money than I dare admit at cafés with live music, internet and charging. Phnom Penh feels like a proper big city. Plenty of options. Grimy, clammy, dark and wild around the edges and in the alleys. In Vietnam I was fine walking around at night. Here I feel less safe.

Every day, when I’ve been walking around the streets, the tuk-tuk drivers call after me. That happened in Vietnam too, where the Grab scooters would ask if I needed a ride. The difference, though, is how persistent they are in Cambodia. Every tourist has to be actively chased and showered with offers of cheap rides, sightseeing and good shopping tips. On one occasion I experienced outright pleading to use his service, because otherwise his family would go to bed hungry. The one time I took a tuk-tuk ride from someone off the street, I had to spend 10 minutes negotiating the price. In general, conversations with Cambodians are more transactional than in Vietnam.

The staff at my hostel are young people who typically study on the side. They’re fairly easy to strike up a chat with and are happy to talk about their experience as young people in Cambodia. The economy is under pressure for most people, and it’s not made any easier by the turmoil in Iran, which has sent oil prices soaring. There’s a real concern about poverty for the large part of the population that has been living right on the edge of being able to feed themselves.

I’m probably shaped by many years on the internet, where you constantly have to be on guard against scams, manipulation and people trying to make money off you. So my defenses automatically go up when I’m unsolicitedly asked to buy something. But when I walk around Phnom Penh, the underlying motive doesn’t feel driven by cynical opportunism, but rather economic desperation. Vietnam had it too, but to such a low degree that I only experienced it a few times. In Phnom Penh it’s every time I’m out. That makes my stay a bit more intense and mentally exhausting.

Ultimately I’ve chosen to stay in Phnom Penh just under a week longer than originally planned. It’s important to me that I give the places I visit a chance. My goal isn’t to find the best city in Southeast Asia, but to experience the differences. So far it’s gone well when I’ve reined in my own nature and let the areas unfold for me.

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